My Basket
Sub-Total: £0.00
Hadrian’s Wall – Day 3
- ? Location: Chollerford to a random rock cluster in the middle of nowhere
- ? Distance: 3.8 miles
- ?️ Weather: A bit wet… a bit wild… a lot windy!
- ? Health: A few more feet to tend to, but nothing too dramatic. No one lost a toe.
The one with soggy knickers, survival laughs and spoons!
? Delay Tactics and the Morning Shuttle
We pushed back our start to 10am, aiming to sneak out during a weather window. No high ridges today – just a low-level walk and a very cautious plan. Martin, Gillian and I completed our morning Shuttle Dance (we’re getting good at this), dropping luggage at Twice Brewed and parking the minibus at Brocolitia Roman Temple – today’s designated endpoint (around 4.5 miles).?️ Walk, Sweat, and Cow Dodging
We set off in what can only be described as light drizzle, though it was surprisingly warm and muggy. Within minutes we were shedding waterproof layers. The path took us through picturesque hamlets, past big stretches of wall, and – naturally – through a cow field or two.This isn’t so bad,I thought smugly. Famous last words. Three miles in, the wind turned aggressive, the heavens opened, and suddenly we were in a full-blown storm. Glasses fogged up, hoods blew sideways, and we all looked like damp laundry flapping in a gale.
? Rock Refuge and a Rescue Mission
The group took shelter in a huddle of rocks – not the Hilton, but it did the trick. I dashed up to the road, about 50 yards away, while Martin (watching me on Find My Friends like some kind of MI5 agent) drove to collect reinforcements. Martin scooped up Kevin, Hayley, and Gillian, who then returned with the minibus. (Kevin’s on the insurance, so he was basically our knight in shining waterproofs!). We piled into the bus like a bunch of drowned rats. I braced for grumpy faces… but no! Laughter filled the van. There was talk of soggy knickers, wet bras, and hair resembling seaweed. Cheryl, who literally got blown off a stile, declared it the best day ever.I’ve never felt so alive!she beamed. Me? Not so much. I was just relieved no one got blown to Carlisle.
?️ Museums, Germans & Tree Tears
After drying off and wolfing down some lunch at the hotel, I took a small group to Housesteads Roman Fort for a proper look around. It was actually lovely to wander, learn, and not be herding 14 people across a field in sideways rain. The museum and documentary film gave real insight into Roman life up here on the frontier – no Gore-Tex or Merino socks in their day. On our way back, I spotted a few weary hikers in dripping ponchos – clearly not having the best time. They sounded German, exhausted, and very grateful for the lift. Definitely not a good day to be out hoofing it without backup. We then stopped at The Sill – next to our hotel – where a poignant memorial now stands, made from a large section of the Sycamore Gap tree, which was tragically felled in 2023. I didn’t expect it to hit me so hard. The engraved messages, the benches, the sense of loss… maybe it was the day’s emotion catching up with me, but I found it really upsetting. Why would someone do that to a tree?? Wine, Spoons, and Chaos
As we arrived back, the hotel bar was already buzzing with our lot – empty wine bottles in an ice bucket, it was getting messy! ? Yes, spoons. If you know, you know. “Spoons” is our trail tradition – a deceptively simple card game that inevitably turns into full-on Gladiators when someone lunges for the last spoon. One particular lady (I’m not naming names, but she’s got moves) was prepared to elbow someone into Northumberland to win. Another (whose name rhymes withPlain) could write a book on creative cheating. I have no idea who actually won (Angel? Gillian?), but I do know that the wine kept flowing and the volume steadily increased. After that chaos, we played Pig – a game involving stealth, finger-to-nose signals, and absolute hilarity. At this point, it was less about winning and more about keeping a straight face while pretending we weren’t tipsy.